About Last Night
by brodie-wan
Summary: Academy Days! Bones wakes up on the floor to smelly socks and another startling discovery. Short one shot.


_Author note: This is a little bit of Academy Days fun. I hope you enjoy! From a prompt by my friend Mira-Jade._

_Jim and McCoy: 'I don't remember this. Why don't I remember this?'_

**About Last Night**

"What have you done, Jim? Leonard McCoy said, after opening his eyes to a pair rank smelling socks lying on the floor in front of him. He was not as concerned with the smelly socks as he was with waking up at ground level. He heard a rustling sound up and to his to his left and rolled in that direction. Reaching up, he grasped the edge of Kirk's bed frame, and pulled himself into a sitting position. "JIM!"

More rustling emanated from above with an added sigh.

McCoy's eyes stung as if he had little to no sleep. His body ached, his head pounded, and he wondered what God forsaken trouble he was party to the night before. When he was more fully cognizant, he'd do a complete examination for possible injury. But, for now, he looked for the obvious signs of blood and bruises. When he found none, he awkwardly stood and regarded the mound of moaning sheets. Jim's head rested perfectly on his pillow and his peaceful smile mocked McCoy viciously.

The doctor delicately lifted the blanket which covered his roommate confirming his hope of no additional company. Turning from the bed, he marched into the bathroom and filled two cups with the coldest water the tap could muster. Returning to Kirk's bedside, he ripped the covers from his friend's body and unceremoniously dumped the water on his head and back.

McCoy had seen Kirk move quickly and with great agility, but what he witnessed, here, had no grace at all. The blonde cadet leaped from the bed thrashing about like a wild animal. But surprise and shock quickly turned to keen observation and calculation of response.

"What the hell, Bones!" Kirk shouted, turning his fierce eyes on the doctor. "That was uncalled for!"

"Uncalled for?" Bones replied, incredulous. "Waking up with your rancid socks under my nose is uncalled for. You could have, at least, gotten me onto my bed."

The command cadet shook his head, throwing droplets of water in all directions including McCoy's face and shirt. This caused the older man to fume, but hold his tongue.

"Listen, Bones," Kirk started, raising a hand to accentuate his point. "It was like this-"

"I don't care what it was, Jim. You left me on the floor to wake with the taste of your foot-I don't even know what –in my mouth."

Kirk placed his hands on McCoy's shoulders and shook him soundly. "Snap out of it, Bones! I get that socks smelled. Move on."

"Move on?" McCoy said. "This happens three to four times a week. It has to stop."

"It can't stop, Bones," Kirk responded, confidently. "You're the best wingman a guy could hope for: a good looking grumpy bear who the girls just can't help but want to comfort. You've got real pain; real grief. They eat that stuff up. With your divorce and my dead father, we're unstoppable."

McCoy pitied his roommate in that moment. Even if Kirk couldn't see it, the doctor knew well that man had real pain of his own.

It was in that moment of silence that McCoy felt an itch at his hip. It felt hot, like a burn, but it was growing in strength with every passing second. He scratched at it, growling at the increasing pain, before lowering his pants enough to see the source of the sudden irritation.

Kirk, who watched McCoy's seizure with interest, grinned as the tattoo was revealed inside the doctor's pelvis.

"What the hell is that!" McCoy blurted, eyeing snakes entwined around the staff of Aesculapius.

"I believe it the universal symbol for medicine, Bones," Kirk added, purposefully stating the obvious.

"I know that. Thank you very much!" McCoy raged. "I'm more concerned about what it's doing on my body."

Unperturbed, Kirk answered: "We all got tattoos last night. You were so eager to go first, I had to relent. Kira insisted."

McCoy stared aghast. "Who is Kira?"

"Sierra's sister," Kirk replied, with obvious satisfaction.

"I don't remember this. Why don't I remember this?"

Kirk began to fear that a simple tattoo was going to send his friend into a fugue state. He decided to head off the psychotic break by slapping the furious doctor across the face.

"Snap out of it, Bones!"

McCoy stood stick still, staring into Kirk's sparkling blue eyes.

Taking a moment to collect himself, McCoy said: "Thank you and don't ever do that again."

"Unless absolutely necessary."

"Yes, that," the doctor added, rubbing his stinging cheek.

"I don't know what you're all worked about anyway, Bones. Tattoos aren't as permanent as they used to be. Dermal regeneration is a wonderful thing. Not I'd be staring at your private area…ever…I think it suits you. Maybe you should keep it. The chicks will dig it."

"Yeah, _that's_ why I should keep it," McCoy said sarcastically. "By the way, Jim, what tattoo did you get?"

"I didn't get one," Kirk said, frowning. "One of the inkers got fresh with Kira. There was a fight. We had to leave. You should be proud, though. Her tattoo reads **L-e-o**. That's as far as he got before you clocked him for inappropriately touching her right breast."

"Why would I do that?" McCoy asked, holding his hands out in disbelief.

"I guess you were defending her honor or something," Kirk replied. "When you get hammered, it usually goes one of two ways: Southern gentleman or Southern jackass. Last night, it was a little bit of both."


End file.
